The undoing is almost always more difficult than the doing.
You can always trust a dog that likes peanut butter.
May God strike me down with a hammer on the head before I write a book with a teach-y goal!
She was working to remind herself of who she was. She was working to remember that somewhere in another place entirely she was known and loved.
It seems to be that way with most things. No one to do the really disagreeable jobs except oneself.
There ain’t a body, be it mouse or man, that ain’t made better by a little soup.
It’s hard not to immediately fall in love witha dog who has a good sense of humor.
I’m at the mercy of whatever character comes into my head.
We appreciate the complicated and wonderful gifts you give us in each other. And we appreciate the task you put down before us, of loving each other the best we can, even as you love us.
No one cared what she wanted. No one had ever cared. And perhaps, worst of all, no one ever would care.
I have a Bachelor of Arts in English, which means I had a lot of formal training in reading.
Say it, reader. Say the word ‘quest’ out loud. It is an extraordinary word, isn’t it? So small and yet so full of wonder, so full of hope.
My goal is two pages a day, five days a week. I never want to write, but I’m always glad that I have done it. After I write, I go to work at the bookstore.
I have been loved said Edward to the stars.
The shapes arranged themselves into words, and the words spelled out a delicious and wonderful phrase: Once upon a time.
Understand, I had absolutely no interest in writing; I wanted to be a Writer.
Did you think that rats do not have hearts? Wrong. All living things have a heart. And the heart of any living thing can be broken.
So many miracles have not yet happened.
There is nothing worse than war in the summetime.
I have learned how to love. And it’s a terrible thing. I’m broken. My heart is broken. Help me.